


According To Plan

by billie33gd



Series: We Belong [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Fem!John - Freeform, Female John Watson, Genderswap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-25
Updated: 2012-01-25
Packaged: 2017-10-30 02:46:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/326905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/billie33gd/pseuds/billie33gd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one year of marriage between Jane and Sherlock, and things never go according to plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	According To Plan

“Do you ever get a calm night?” Lestrade asked, or more like whispered.

“I’d prefer if I didn’t have calm nights.” Sherlock snapped, trying to push his way ahead of the rest of the team into the building.

“And where is Jane?”

“Late shift at the clinic.” He replied, realizing how long it had been since he as spoken with her. “You’re suspect would be on an upper floor, and will have his victim tied with chains in a chair. If we’re lucky he hasn’t harmed her yet. I’m going up this side.”

Sherlock ran in the opposite, hearing Lestrade bark instructions to the rest of the Yard. Then his footsteps were light, catching up with his strides. So he wasn’t going to let him go alone.

“They’ll be lost without you.” Sherlock mentioned, feeling Jane’s gun against his back.

“And Jane would kill me if you were killed on your anniversary. You’re lucky I let you come tonight. My wife would be pissed.”

“I don’t have time for your personal life Lestrade. I can hear chains. His victim is tied up, and trying to break out. He isn’t here, or he is heading up ahead of us-”

“You’ll be good bait, missy.” They heard. Sherlock and Lestrade were ahead of everyone. They looked from behind old crates, spying the murderer and his next victim. “He doesn’t even know you’re gone…”

“Sherlock-” Lestrade’s eyes widened, recognizing who was tied up. The hair color was unmistakable.

“I know.” The man growled, gripping the gun.

“Drop your weapon!” Lestrade shouted, pointing his fire arm straight at Harry Kingsley. “Now.”

Sherlock followed up behind him, holding Jane’s gun out. His rational thought flew out the window. He couldn’t concentrate. Not with Jane struggling against chains.

“He wanted me to get her.” Kingsley spoke, now holding the gun to his temple. “Said it would get to Sherlock Holmes…”

“Who?” Lestrade demanded.

“Moriarty.” Sherlock replied, holding the gun firm.

“Damn it.” The man cursed. “Drop your weapon Kingsley.”

“I know he’s going to kill me anyways. I took his precious pet-” Kingsley laughed. A gunshot rang through the abandoned factory and he screamed, dropping to his knees. Sherlock had fired the gun, shooting him in the hand.

“Fuck…” Lestrade ran over to the man, wrapping the hand and cuffing him. “Give me the gun Sherlock!”

“Why? I apprehended a criminal.”

“You will serve time for shooting him. And I can’t protect you if you keep your gun.”

Sherlock narrowed his eyes, but handed the fire arm over. Lestrade wiped the handle, gave his to Sherlock and put the other in his holster. Sherlock shot a wall to provide gunpowder residue.

“If anyone asks, I will say you were hit in the arm, and grabbed the nearest weapon you could find and I was able to grab yours.” Sherlock tucked it away, turning his attention to Jane.

She was passed out in the chair, a bruise forming along her cheek. She was nodding on and off most likely from the drug they had gotten her with.

“He had help.” Sherlock spoke, pulling a chair up fast. “He couldn’t of gotten her chained up alone. She would have fought him off.”

“He’ll be taken in for questioning. And we’ll ask routine questions when Jane is awake.” Lestrade responded, while Harry was still writhing in pain.

“Harry got her on the way back from the clinic. She was heading home, and I was going to meet her at Angelo’s for dinner after the case.” Sherlock whispered, nearly heartbroken. He unlocked the restraints holding her and caught her against him. “She’s got a pulse. It’s faint.”

The others in the Yard arrived, taking Kingsley away. Lestrade  pushed at Sherlock to get Jane to the hospital, but Sherlock flat out refused.

“I do not want to spend my anniversary in a hospital. I am taking her home to be more comfortable.”

“Holy hell Sherlock.” Lestrade ran a hand through his hair. “It really has been a year…”

“Obviously. Now either help or piss off.” Sherlock snapped angrily, gripping Jane tighter. Her pulse had gotten stronger, and she was moving a bit on her own. Close to waking up he estimated.

“You are damn lucky she can put up with you. That even I do so Sherlock. I hope you don’t take advantage of this.” Lestrade opened the door of his squad car. Sherlock got in, laying Jane out, with her head in his lap.

“I have no time for your comments on how I treat you or Jane, please.” Sherlock whispered to Lestrade’s surprise. He had expected a full assault on how, well he didn’t even know.

With the sirens blaring, they made it to the flat in under twenty minutes. Jane was still groggy as he helped Sherlock get her into the flat. When she was laid out on the couch, Sherlock laid his coat over her when the shivers started.

“She’ll have a fever as a reaction to whatever they gave her. I’ll text when she is able to give a statement.”

“That sounds good enough for me. Goodnight Sherlock, and-”

“Wait to say it tomorrow.” Sherlock waved his hand at Lestrade to leave. He did, leaving Sherlock to take care of Jane.

A few hours passed, and Sherlock was able to confirm that Jane would be okay. He returned to the chemical experiment covering the kitchen table and remembered that mornings conversation.

_“Body parts for once aren’t littering the poor table.” Jane spoke up from her chair, the paper in front of her. “But hazardous chemicals? Will I need to buy a new one by the end of the week, **again** , Sherlock?”_

_“This is only the third one this year.”_

_“Other couples have had their table for decades. Ours lasts two months tops.” She responded, not looking up. Sherlock glanced over to her, smiling at her mangled hair and choice of jumper that morning. She was going to be late._

_“Aren’t you going to be late for the clinic?” Sherlock finally asked, sounding too domestic. He would have never thought he would have gone this far._

_“They know I’m coming in later.” Was her response. Her voice was to even. Almost dangerous. Had he forgotten something? Something important._

_“You’re angry with me.” He stated. “I’ve forgotten something.”_

_“That you did, but I’m not reminding you.” Jane turned the page, continuing to read the paper. “And you have two and a half hours till I really need to get ready.”_

_Sherlock returned to his experiment, but all thoughts on what he had forgotten. Their birthdays had passed, and any anniversary-_

_“Oh.” He simply stated, turning toward her. The paper hadn’t flipped. He pulled his phone out, pretending that he received a text._

_**Angelo, I need a reservation for tonight at about ten. Any problems? -SH** _

_A few seconds later the phone buzzed._

_**No problem Sherlock. 10 pm.** _

_He smiled, setting the phone down, and walking in front of Jane. The paper was plucked from her hands, and she gave him the ‘How the hell does a genius like you forget?’ look._

_“Technically it doesn’t start till four pm. That’s when we signed the paper.” Sherlock replied, tossing the paper behind him. He set his hands on the arms of the chair, leaning in. “But, it is proper and expected to get started a little early.”_

_Sherlock pressed his lips against hers, before she stopped him._

_“Do I smell a hazardous chemical burning?” Jane asked, crinkling her nose._

_Sherlock cursed under his breath, jumping toward the kitchen. She was correct, and there was a nice orange stain sizzling through the table._

_“You clean it up, and I’ll look online for another table.” He heard Jane sigh._

_“Or, I clean up, and we wait on a table and I return to what I was doing.”_

_“Technically it doesn’t start till four.” Jane smirked, typing away on the laptop. “And I would love to meet you after the case at Angelo’s.”_

_“You’ve been learning.” Sherlock smiled, pulling his gloves on and cleaning up the chemicals._

He heard a moan and looked in the direction of the couch. Jane was sitting up, gripping her head, and breathing hard.

“Bastard drugged me.” She whispered, grabbing the bin that Sherlock placed there for when she woke. “Chloroform mixed with some other shit…”

“You’re just feeling the after effects, and might be sick for a couple days.” Sherlock slipped his gloves off and made his way toward her. Gently, he pulled her mangled hair away from her face, letting her stomach empty.

“I don’t remember much.” She shivered. “I was leaving-”

Another wave of nausea hit, leaving her heaving.

“Wait till later.” Sherlock demanded quietly.

“You want to know now.” Jane whispered, slumping into his side. “I can tell.”

“What I want is not as important as you getting the concoction out of your system.” He replied. “Lie back down, and relax. I need to bandage your wrists.”

Jane nodded, curling up and laying against the union jack pillow. Sherlock bandaged her wrists finding them in worse condition than he thought, then decided to lay beside her. She was out again in a matter of minutes, and his mind was far away from sleep, but he just held her. She was shivering and mumbling to herself.

“Sherlock?” Mrs. Hudson’s voice came into the flat in the early hours of the next morning.

“I am sorry Mrs. Hudson but I am busy.” He snaps quietly, trying not to wake Jane.

“Just checking in on the both of you.” She set a parcel on the table. “Happy anniversary Sherlock.”

“Thank you Mrs. Hudson.” He growled, and she took that queue to leave.

Jane was better but still weak by the end of the day. Within a few days she was up and complaining about the body parts and acid stains on the counter.

“Sherlock, seriously?” She asked, eyeing him in his chair.

“You were incapacitated for a few days, I had to entertain myself.” He answered holding his hands under his chin while sitting cross-legged in his usual chair. “Lestrade is coming by later for a statement. Do you remember everything?”

“I remember someone grabbing me in the hospital, then waking up when I was being hoisted into a chair. I knocked some men down, but there were too many of them. Then Kingsley covered my mouth with a cloth, and I woke up here. Thank you, by the way. It couldn’t have been easy.”

“It was fine. You are stable, and look much better.” Sherlock stood up, walking over to her. “I’m going to call Angelo for another reservation for tonight.”

“One year. We’ve done well Sherlock.” Jane leaned against the pillow again, closing her eyes. Her head was still ringing, and she could feel a faint fever still present.

“Better than expected.” Sherlock lifted her feet, taking a seat under them. “Kingsley seemed to have used an unknown chloroform concoction.”

“He said something about Moriarty.” Jane opened her eyes watching Sherlock’s expression change. “He set this up, didn’t he?”

“That is what Kingsley is saying. He’ll be sent to prison, and most likely murdered. Moriarty has men everywhere. Even in prison.”

“You think he planned it on the date on purpose?”

“Yes. It’s obvious. He’s using the fact that I have a significant other to get to me. But it isn’t going to happen Jane.” Sherlock’s voice grew angry and dark.

“You can’t protect me all the time Sherlock-”

“Then I’ll find away.” Sherlock sighed. “I’m sure Mycroft already upped his security after the incident. Both of us will most likely have someone on our tail now.”

“Sherlock,” Jane moved herself, setting her hand on his thigh. “You need to calm down alright? I’m fine. It’s all fine right now-”

“No it’s not!” Sherlock jumped up, running his fingers through his hair and pacing rapidly through the flat. “He won’t stop now. He won’t stop till I am dead. Or you.”

Jane watched Sherlock’s shield drop as the man grew more aggravated. He was shaken, even more so than from the pool incident. He was breaking down in front of her.

“Sherlock,” Jane stood up, and slowly made her way to Sherlock, who was muttering deductions about anything under his breath. He was cracking, which was a rare occasion. Jane had delt with it once before at a crime scene.

“Sherlock, stop.” She whispered, standing right in front of him.

“Go away.” The man growled, eyes dark.

Ignoring him, Jane placed her hands on either side of Sherlock’s head.

“Jane-”

“Shut up, and close your eyes.” Jane demanded quietly. Sherlock growled, but did as he was told. “Now, I want you to explain to me, in detail, rigor mortis.”

Sherlock started speaking, but Jane stopped him.

“Backwards.” Jane whispered. It wouldn’t be a challenge for him, but it would be enough for him to have to _think_ heavily. It would distract him.

Forty-five minutes later Sherlock was calmed down enough to function properly.

“Better?” Jane asked, her hands now on Sherlock’s stiff shoulders. He nodded slowly, resting his forehead against hers.

“I needed that.” Sherlock breathed shakily. Jane could tell this was bothering him.

“I don’t mean to be a burden on you Sherlock.” She whispered, running a hand through his dark curls.

“No, no don’t think that. Because you aren’t.” Sherlock shook his head hastily. “Even with how much of a romantic I am not, you are not a burden. You are someone who understands me. To the extent.”

“And I believe you will find him, alright? He can’t hide forever.” Jane kissed his forehead softly. “You’re Sherlock Holmes. The worlds only Consulting Detective, and my husband. A sentence I never thought I would say a year ago.”

“Happy belated Anniversary.” Sherlock smiled, kissing Jane on the lips, and pulling her close.

“You owe me for forgetting.” Jane responded, kissing him again.

“Angelo’s?” Sherlock asked, wrapping his arms around Jane’s waist.

“Give me a few hours…” Jane hissed, feeling Sherlock hoist her up until her legs were around his waist.

“Advantage of a petite wife.” Sherlock smirked against Jane’s lips, kissing her harder.

“Bastard.” Jane muttered, fingers tangled in Sherlock’s soft hair.

“Shut up,” Sherlock growled, continuing to kiss Jane along her neck. He knew what she liked, as well as learning something new every time he had his alone time with her.

Sherlock was in love. Something he never thought would be possible for himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! I am literally on fire with this story! Let me know what you think.
> 
> -So sorry I haven't been updating! I got my kindle fire finally and I love it.


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